Of Heat and Healing

Though it isn’t common knowledge, there is a tradition amongst the weather ponies of Ponyville.  Once or twice every year, in the lovely month of June, the pegasi would conspire together to create the most dreadful, most positively unbearable weather imaginable for the sole purpose of tormenting the populace.  Removing every cloud from the sky that might offer shelter from the sweltering heat that relentlessly beat upon the backs of the ponies below, they reveled in the work of their wings, laughing from on high as the unicorns and earth ponies plodded along, helpless before the solar onslaught.  Or, at least, that was how Maple Blush felt during the few days when the weather team decided to let summer have its way, and so it was with great dismay that she opened her fridge to find her supply lacking anything even remotely edible.

“So much for avoiding the heat wave,” the mare mumbled, pouting as she let her head fall against the fridge with a soft thud.  A unicorn of twenty-one years, Maple couldn’t help but wish that she knew some kind of spell to control the weather as she felt perspiration dribble down her horn, through her mane, down her muzzle and towards her chin.  Her violet coat was slick with sweat from a night that had never really cooled, and the morning that was already fixing to be a scorcher.  An ordinarily tame mane of flowing pink had been matted with sweat since she had woken, and showed all manner of rebellious curls as a result.  Snorting with exasperation, she brushed aside her bangs with a hoof to get a better look at the vast nothing she had to eat that morning.  

Aside from some sparse condiments, a few wilted greens, and what may have once been a carrot bunch, abandoned in the darkest corner of the crisper, the shelves before her were bare.  Were the alleged carrots not an unhealthy brownish hue, she might have deigned to consider them breakfast in exchange for postponing her inevitable trip to the market, but between the low rumbling of her tummy and the potential for adding nausea to her already miserably overheated state, Maple conceded to herself that she had languished indoors enough for the week.

“Alright, alright,” she muttered with a sigh as her stomach let out another growl, “I’ll go to the market… soon.  Ish.”  Peeling herself away from the cool air that didn’t feel nearly as cool as it should, Maple trudged away to get ready for the day.  After splashing her face with lukewarm water, which seemed to be all the pipes could manage, she fought unsuccessfully with her mane before finally throwing in the towel and wrapping the whole thing in a loose bun.  Trotting towards the entryway, she levitated over a saddlebag from the closet along with some bits, did her best to ignore the sensation of the saddlebag gluing itself to her back, and meandered over towards the door where she stood, hesitating.

“Do I really need breakfast?” she wondered, eagerly searching for an excuse to venture outdoors.  “I can probably make it until lunchtime if I scrape out the cupboards.  There were a few oats in there… that would be enough, right?”  Her stomach roared, and she hung her head in defeat as she reached towards the door.

“Ouch!  That’s hot!” she yelped, yanking her hoof away and flailing it madly as her magenta eyes glared for all they were worth at the door handle.  Grasping it firmly with her magic, she tugged hard and, with a sundering crack, the lever tore from the door and opened the portal to Tartarus.  Any semblance of good graces disappeared as Maple stood inside the doorway as heat blasted her face and coated her head to hoof with stickiness.  It wasn’t just hot and humid, it was downright boiling, and a single glance at the mare made it plenty evident that she despised the heat.

“...It’s going to be one of those days.”  Dropping the handle to the dust, Maple stepped over it and started her journey in a huff.  Being a counselor, Maple was plenty familiar with the five stages of dealing with grief.  Having already done her fair share of denial the past few days, she stewed in anger for a couple of minutes before skipping over bargaining, which hadn’t worked the previous summer, and moving right along into depression.  Actually, she knew perfectly well that it wasn’t real depression, and Maple wasn’t the type of pony that would stay upset over something as trivial as the weather for any great duration of time.  There were too many ponies that needed a cheery word or a shoulder to lean on for her to stew, and with rueful glance at the trio of hearts on her flank, she relinquished her frustrations with a sigh of acceptance.

“Come on, Maple, cheer up!” she told herself.  “There is still plenty of fun to be had.”  With that, she set about trying to treat the day as she would any other.  There were no clients scheduled that afternoon, so she could stand to dilly dally a bit if she felt like it, but with the weather the way it was, all she really wanted was a nice meal and a few hours with her snout deep in a good book.  Making a mental note to grab something from the library, Maple continued on her way, exchanging pleasantries with the ponies around town and longing for a little shade or a cool breeze to take the edge off of the summer sun.  Much to her bewilderment, one of those two unspoken requests was granted, and she cantered to a halt as she became eclipsed within the cool shade of a single, fluffy cloud.

“What in the world?” she murmured, staring with wonder.  “Did somepony goof or something?  This is the only cloud around for miles!”  Maple glanced around her.  Sure enough, there wasn’t a single other cloud to be found.  “Don’t worry, I won’t tattle,” she whispered with a giggle.  Lingering for a while, the mare reveled in her respite before bidding the kind cloud adieu with a smile and a wave.  “That was just the thing I needed,” she thought to herself as she adjusted her saddlebag and stepped forward.  So did the cloud.

“Okay, that can’t be natural,” Maple realized, slowing to a stop.  The cloud had mirrored her movements, and even though she had moved a good pony length forward, the shadow remained centered above her.  “Is somepony pulling a prank, I wonder?”  Donning a sly expression, she locked her sights on the cloud and took a few more steps.  Sure enough, the cloud followed her movements.  At that point, she didn’t really care if it were a fluke, a mirage, or someone’s experiment gone awry: it was still the best prank ever.  

Humming happily, Maple resumed her trip towards the market with a spring in her step.  The event had impressed upon her how something so slight could have such a positive impact, and reminded her quite a bit of her passion of helping other ponies.  Sometimes, a sidelong embrace and a little dash of chocolate could turn around a pony’s entire day, and she relished every smile that she received, and even some of the frowns.  It wasn’t that she enjoyed that another pony was struggling, but helping them work through the pain and learn to hope again brought just as much satisfaction as laughter.

“Excuse me, miss…”   At the sound of another’s voice nearby, Maple blinked out of her contemplation and regarded the pony that had drawn up beside her with vague curiosity.  He was a unicorn like her and about the same height.  His two-tone mane of white and minty green swept across his right eye and flowed down around his neck, complimenting his pale green coat.  A tuft of facial hair sat counter to his youthful appearance, and his citrine eyes showed some hesitancy as he stood a respectful distance away.

“Good morning!” Maple said pleasantly, remembering her manners.  “Did you need something?”

“Well, kinda,” he explained with an awkward chuckle.  “I was just wondering if you wouldn’t mind sharing a little bit of your shade.”  

Maple wasn’t quite sure how to respond at first.  While the shade was easily enough to cover her, it would be a pretty tight fit to squeeze in another pony, which was a tall order for somepony that was naturally shy by nature.  And yet, she couldn’t imagine herself denying the stranger’s request.  He had at least had the dignity to ask her first, and judging by the way he was standing, he wasn’t exactly the sort that was brimming with confidence.

“I wouldn’t mind sharing at all!  Come on,” she encouraged him, motioning him over with a hoof.  “There’s plenty of space for two.”  Maple had to stifle her laughter as he stood rooted in place for a moment, apparently baffled at her hearty reception to his proposal, before dipping his snout in thanks and sidling in beside her.

“Ahhh, that feels great,” he murmured, closing his eyes as the shade soothed his coat.  “Thank you very much.”

“You’re very welcome,” she returned pleasantly as they both began to walk.  Ordinarily, introductions would have swiftly followed, but both ponies were content to simply walk in quiet for a time, thankful for the relief.  It also allowed Maple a little time to observe the stallion.  Being able to read body language was something she had learned to do well, and between the way the stallion kept his muzzle dipped just slightly down and his roaming eyes that never seemed to glance her way for more than a moment, it became clear that there was something on his mind.  Right then, what he needed was a little friendly banter.

“Something on your mind?” Maple asked, looking over at him.

“Random bits of narration, a few vague concepts, and a complete absence of dialogue,” he conceded with a rueful chuckle.  “Small talk has never been my strong suit.”

“Well, how about we start with something simple, then!” she chortled.  “What’s your name?”

“Shimmer Quill.  Yours?”

“Maple Blush, but Maple is fine.”  She waited a few moments to allow him room to speak if he wanted to, but Shimmer remained quiet, leading her to the conclusion that she would be the one leading the conversation - Not that she minded, really.  Speaking one on one was something she had plenty of experience with.  “So, Shimmer, do you live here in Ponyville?  You look familiar, but I don’t believe we’ve ever spoken.”

“I have a small studio over on the other end of town,” he explained, motioning down the road.  “You’ve probably seen me around the marketplace.  I’m only out and about a few days of the week, as business has been slow lately.  Not that I can really blame anypony for that,” he added with a tinge of regret.

“What is it that you sell?” Maple inquired, having noticed the way Shimmer dropped his gaze.

“Not much as of late,” he explained with a shrug.  “For a while, I made a decent living selling stories that I had written.”

“You’re a writer?!” Maple all but squealed in her excitement.  “I can’t believe that there’s a local author right here in Ponyville that I haven’t read anything from!”

“Well, it’s really not that surprising,” Shimmer said, flashing the mare a weak grin.  “I don’t go through any of the large publishing companies because I like to keep my stories as my own.  My success is largely dependent upon building up a steady fanbase in whatever city I set up shop.  Without the advertising that comes with being published by one of the larger companies, though, it becomes much more important that I turn out acceptable work, and frequently,” he continued on, his expression softening to one of dejection.

“Somewhere in my pursuit of perfection, I lost sight of the passion that drove me to pick up the quill in the first place.  My heart used to be overflowing with stories, but now… I can hardly stand to look at a blank page.”  Shimmer heaved a heavy sigh.  “Without something new, interest wanes.  I’ve had to move twice in the last few years, and without anything to rekindle that interest…”  He shook his head before turning towards Maple with an apologetic look.  “Now that I’ve gone and made things awkward by dumping my problems on a total stranger… what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a counselor,” Maple declared with a grin, “and it sounds like somepony could stand to pay me a visit.  Trust me,” she continued with a gentle laugh, “you’ll have to do better than that to make me feel awkward.  If anything, its refreshing to speak with somepony so open and honest about their life.”

“I’m an open book to any who wish to read,” Shimmer replied with a chuckle, cantering to a halt.  “Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait before delving into the next few pages.  This is my stall.”  Maple had become so engrossed in their conversation that she had completely forgotten about the heat or where they were headed.  At some point, Shimmer had taken the lead, and she looked up to find herself in the middle of the market district.  They were stopped outside of a rather small stall whose sign bore no title, just the image of Shimmer’s cutie mark, a golden quill with three sparkles.

“That’s a terrible cliffhanger,” Maple teased, sticking out her tongue.  She had been enjoying Shimmer’s company, but she hadn’t any reason to drag him along on her shopping, especially since he needed any sales he could get.  “Well, if you ever want to talk, you should stop by my clinic sometime; I’m quite the reading enthusiast.”

“That, um…” Shimmer faltered, a faint blush rising to his cheeks.  “That sounds… acceptable.”

“Hehe!  I’m sure it does,” she giggled, watching Shimmer’s cheeks take on a rosen hue.  His mind had clearly gone somewhere other than counseling.  “Don’t be stranger, alright?  See ya, Shimmer!”  Parting with a wave, Maple took her leave of her newest acquaintance and set about finding food to last her the rest of the week.

“He really is an open book,” she thought to herself, casting one last glance over her shoulder.  “...I like that.”

---

“I really am an open book…”  Shimmer could feel his face beginning to bake on the sun-warmed planks of the stall counter, but he couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it.  He had only managed to fill the shelves of the stall half-way before losing sight of the lovely mare he had met earlier, at which point the full weight of heat exhaustion and worry dropped his head to the deck with a reverberating thud.  If there was one thing that he had learned about himself, it was that he was open to a fault, and he hadn’t the hooves to count the number of ponies that he had unintentionally driven away with his frank honesty.  He hated that about himself, but there was little he could do about it.

“She was probably just being polite,” he thought, snorting an invasive droplet of sweat from the end of his snout.  “Even if she is a counselor, that doesn’t mean she would want to hear about my problems.  She’s off duty.  What I did was like… like…”  Pausing as the searing heat on his face grew too intense, he lazily rolled over to the other side of his face and listened to the sizzle of sweat being evaporated on the hot surface.  “... it was stupid.  And embarrassing.”  Wincing at the pain of being baked on his own personal grill of a countertop, he heaved a tremendous sigh and retreated into the preciously small amount of shade that his stall provided, reached into his saddlebag which lay nearby, and withdrew a thick, heavily bound tome.  He quietly flipped through the pages of text until he found the particular section that he sought.

“At least she’s enjoying the cloud,” he mused to himself, letting a frail grin light his features.  Knowing that the chances of making any significant sales on his written works was fairly dismal on account of the heat, Shimmer laid the book aside and set about plying his secondary trade: enchantments and incantations.  Ponyville was fairly racially diverse, but many of the residents cherished the earth pony values upon which it was founded.  Magic wasn’t the first option when it came to solving problems, but Shimmer had carved out a niche for himself offering a different kind of service in the form of single use spells and charms.

Withdrawing a bundle of scrolls and two jars of ink from the sack, he unfurled one of the parchments and wrapped his horn in a warming, golden glow.  The quill danced across the page, with every letter scripted shining brightly before quickly evanescing back to a mundane, normal appearance.  All one had to do to activate the magic sealed within was invoke the incantation, so as long as the pony could read, they could use the spell.  There were quite a few stubborn earth ponies about that would rather tough it out than use magic to take the edge off the heat, but there were plenty of others that wouldn’t mind paying for a cool breeze or resting under the shade of a magical palm tree.  Scripting spells required very little by way of imagination, however, and Shimmer found it to be a dull task when set alongside the thrill of sculpting a moving tale.

“What I wouldn’t give for a little inspiration...” he murmured, putting the finishing touches on a spell before grabbing a fresh sheet and starting in on a new one.  The thought was one that seemed to play like a broken record through his mind.  If he forced himself, he was confident that he could eke out something passable, but if he wasn’t touched by the story, then how could he hope for others to take an interest?  “No,” he told himself for the umpteenth time, “a story devoid of passion is just a passing vapor.  I’ll find a reason to write again… someday.”  Putting the finishing touches on the last of the charms, he organized them in the front most display and then settled back into the shade.  There was nothing more to do but wait and hope that he got some business.

Minutes trickled by like the sweat on Shimmer’s brow as he let his mind wander.  It was frustrating to him how he could be brimming with so many ideas, only to have them scatter to the wind the moment he picked up his quill.  Something inside was holding him back, but try as he may, he couldn’t seem to figure out what it was.  His mind wandered back to Maple, the mare that had kept him company, and her offer.

“Counseling, huh?” he pondered, staring blearily into the distance.  “I don’t see why I would pay to have somepony tell me that I’ve got things all twisted in my head; I already know that just fine.”  Whether it was pride or stubbornness, Shimmer couldn’t rightly say, but he had never liked the idea of getting counseling.  He knew that there were plenty who found solace in the process, and had given plenty of counsel to his peers in years past, but there were precious few who had paid him any heed.

“And then I turned around and did the exact same thing,” he remembered as the bitter taste of regret filled his mouth.  “Heh… I probably do need to see somepony,” he conceded, laying back and staring at the roof of the stall.  His thoughts swiftly returned to the kindly mare that had caught his fancy a few days prior to the heat wave.  He had been packing up when some kind of scuffle broke out.  Had Maple not been present, he was convinced that the couple would never have spoken with each other again, but her soothing words had left the pair in tears, and they couldn’t have looked happier when Shimmer saw them a few days later.  

“Maple Blush… a mare as sweet as her name…”  He shook his head as the tempting thought of being something more than an acquaintance fluttered ever so briefly through his mind.  “She’s probably taken,” he told himself.  Shimmer had learned and relearned the simple truth that for every decent mare, there was also a stallion already attached at the hip.  “Still,” he continued with a rueful grin, “it can’t hurt to dream.  Not much, anyways.”  

This thought had hardly finished when the sound of some tremendous kerfuffle wrenched him from his reverie.  Confused as to why anypony would raise a hubbub on such a stiflingly hot day, Shimmer hoisted himself upright, wiped his eyes clear of perspiration, and peered through the hazy street to see what was going on.  His heart skipped a beat before plunging into the pit of his stomach as he realized what was happening.

Apparently, not every pony was as polite about asking Maple to share her cloud.  Shimmer looked on with dismay as a horde of ponies crammed themselves together around the shade.  He caught a glimpse of Maple somewhere in the seething mass of sweaty bodies, and she looked somewhere between distraught and terrified.  Snatching up the massive tome beside him, Shimmer lit his horn and wrapped the book in a golden glow, the pages heeding his call and flipping to the appropriate place.

“Torn from the tether, the shroud that once sheltered the fallow ground dispersed, swept away by the eastern wind.”  Heeding the incantation, the pages shimmered brightly as the magic within circulated.  The stallion watched as the mass of ponies tore off down the street, following after the cloud that had already begun to fade before turning his crestfallen gaze to the haggard mare left behind.  As he neared, he found Maple’s mane and tail in absolute disarray, and he couldn’t rightly tell if the tears welling in her eyes were of fear, or of anger.  Either way, he had been the cause, and his ears peeled back as he approached, hanging his head.

“Sh-Shimmer?” Maple stammered, noticing the guilt-laden gaze with which she was held.

“I’m sorry, Maple,” he said softly.  “That... wasn’t the plot twist that I had in mind.”

“What’re you…” she began, falling quiet as he held up a hoof for silence.

“...Come with me.”  Leading her out of the main fairway, Shimmer brought her into an alleyway that was fairly well hidden from the marketplace.  He could barely stand to face her, knowing that he had unintentionally orchestrated the catastrophe, but he had to at least try to set things right.  Lifting over his tome, he slipped through a few pages, swallowed hard, and began to read as he looked into her searching eyes.

“And lo,” he began to read in a faltering voice, “a great cloud arose to pour forth its bounty upon the land, bringing life to those below.”  The words upon the page flashed with a brilliant light, and Maple watched wordlessly as another cloud formed above her head.  It started with a single, cooling drop that splashed upon her forehead as she looked on, followed by another, and another until she was caught in a rejuvenating cascade.  All the dust that had caked to her coat melted away, along with the sweat that had drenched her head to hoof.  Her mane, which had come undone from its bun when she had been crowded by the other ponies, straightened out and tumbled down around her shoulders, reaching almost to the ground.  Enraptured by the sight, she closed her eyes and reveled in the cool of the shower before opening her eyes to find a very worried stallion standing before her.  It was then that she began to put things together.

“The cloud…” she started, peering back at Shimmer.  “That was… that was you?”

“It was,” he conceded quietly.  Maple went quiet, with the only sound being the steady pitter patter of the rain.

“...Why?”  It was a simple question, but one that Shimmer didn’t well feel prepared to answer.  He ran through a few different ways of presenting things, even tried to conjure a comedic spin to put on the whole debacle, but in the end, all he could do was give an honest explanation.

“I… just wanted to do something nice for you,” he began, glancing away.  “I’ve seen you around town.  You’re always cheering somepony up, lending a hoof, or having a laugh, and I got to wondering, ‘I wonder if anypony takes the time to do the same for her?’”  Though he couldn’t look upon her dripping form for long, he did glance up just long enough to make eye contact before averting his gaze.  “I may not have the most experience, but generally, a mare doesn’t rip off her door handle without being in an exceptionally foul mood…”

“Oh, you… you saw that, huh?” she asked, pawing nervously at the ground.  It hadn’t been her finest moment, and she could feel the blush intensify a little at the thought of having been seen.

“You looked like you could use a pick-me-up,” Shimmer said, flashing her a smile.  “I had been wanting to find a way to talk to you for a while now, but as handy as I am with a quill, my spoken word is… less than great.”

“So you used your magic to make a cloud for me?” she questioned, a genuine grin forming on her lips.  “And then asked if you could share, even though it belonged to you?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Shimmer explained, working up the courage to make and maintain eye contact.  “I didn’t realize that everypony would go crazy like that, though given this town, I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me.”  With a sigh, he lifted his head and looked her in the eyes.  “I’m sorry, Maple.  I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hoof.”

Shimmer seemed starkly aware of all the ways he had erred, as in fact he was, but what he couldn’t have known was how much he had done right.  Where he only saw the end result of his actions that left Maple in worse condition than when she had left the house, she was looking beyond the results and into the intentions behind the actions.  She hated the heat, and he had used his magic to alleviate her discomfort.  She didn’t feel comfortable being thrown into a crowd of sweaty bodies, but she loved the rain and reveled in the shower that followed.  Throughout what short exchanges they had shared, Maple had come to see Shimmer as a pony of honest integrity, though perhaps what impressed her the most was the fact that the stallion before her had noticed her for who she was and what she stood for, rather than her appearance.  Although, judging by his blush, Maple surmised that there was some attraction there, too, and it was with all these things on her heart that she realized what it was that the stallion needed.

“You know, I think there’s room for two under this cloud…”  The chastisement that he had expected never came, and Shimmer regarded the hoof being held out to him with confusion.  Slowly, he reached forward, allowing himself to be drawn into the cooling shower of his own design, though he couldn’t stop the heat from flaring in his cheeks as he found himself drawn into a friendly embrace.  “Thank you for making my day, Shimmer,” Maple whispered, holding him close.  “You’re a wonderful pony.”

Sometimes, what a pony needs is complicated, and other times, the smallest of things can make an incredible difference.  With a word, Maple had countered a stallion’s misguided belief that his worth could be measured in dust, and with a kind touch, she had proven her words to be more true than all those that had left him feeling as though anything he touched would crumble.  It wasn’t the cloud nor the rain that Maple was most grateful for that day, but the stallion that had allowed her to help in his healing.  In the end, it turned out to be a different kind of “those days,” the kind that made even the hottest summer day worth weathering.